The honorary award goes to….FRITH. Frith also wins 100 points for Slytherin!
Way to go the rest of you who found out! I told you Lord Granger meant business. Now, no more annoying Author's Notes for some time, take a deep breath and everyone wear your protective chaplets because you must beware of ….
Chapter 12: The Magic of Midsummer
Hermione found that try as she might, she could not diminish her feelings for Draco in the slightest. If anything, the sight of the roses, now in a vase in her room, reminded her constantly that, like it or not, there was something between them. She was certain it was Draco who had put them there, but she could not figure out how. Could it be they were still magic? Was it really a result of wandless magic? If it was, it was good to know they were still magic. If only she could talk to Draco about it properly… but she still felt uncomfortable around him. Though she had forgiven him, she hadn't worked out how she felt about him, especially with Blaise Zabini hanging around the edge of her mind….she couldn't even decide if she wanted to help him gather fernseed on Midsummer's Eve…
Draco was annoyed at himself for shooting off his mouth that night. Things were going fine, so….aaauuuugh, why did he have to lose his temper? And despite his initial rage at her, all he wanted to do now was apologise and have things go back to the way they were. He had come to realize that the worst thing of all was that every time Hermione decided to avoid him, she managed to very successfully. It was impossible for him to catch even a glimpse of her if she did not come into the outer compound. They had absolutely no way of communicating unless she decided to sneak out. The situation was most unsatisfactory.
And now it was only two days to midsummer's eve. What if she didn't turn up? Well, fine. If she was going to stay mad at him, let her stay mad. He was perfectly capable of collecting the fernseed by himself.
*************************************
On Midsummer's Eve, the stablehands and servants were let off early as was the custom. The church had yet to prevail against some old traditions. Most people stayed indoors on this night, afraid of the thinning of the veil between the fairie world and the mortal one. Draco ate his supper in his cottage and drank water collected from the stream. The sun stubbornly refused set on this longest evening of the year.
He fingered the two chaplets they had woven a week ago. The herbs had dried and now gave off a sweet smell. He remembered her sitting opposite him on the ground, chanting under her breath, looking as lovely as a fairy herself. He had told Hermione about his duties as head of the Malfoy estate and she had understood and sympathized. Then somehow, things had gotten out of hand and they had quarreled.
Badly.
And every night since, he had dreamed of her, dreamed of apologizing and seeing her smile at him again. The first night the dream had been so real he could almost smell the flowers he presented her as a token of apology. But as she reached for them with a smile on her face, the dream dissolved and he found himself alone in his cottage.
If only he could be sure of her feelings for him, he would give up everything for her. Yes…including his engagement. But he was caught in a catch-22 situation. Hermione wasn't clear about her feelings for him because she was concerned about his engagement. If he ditched his engagement and declared his feelings for her, what if she decided that it still wasn't enough? He would have made himself such a fool…His mind went round and round, trying to figure out what to do.
At last, he noticed that it was dark. He estimated it was about eleven o'clock.
Time to go to collect fernseed. Alone.
There was a knock on his door.
He jumped. The stablehands had told him stories of fay-folk wandering about on Litha and ensnaring mortals. In the future, such stories were but children's stories for baby wizards and witches, but somehow, in the past, they seemed more real than ever.
He put on his chaplet.
"Who's there?"
"It's me, hurry, let me in."
He threw open the door. White-faced and breathing hard, Hermione stood on his doorstep. He grabbed her arm and pulled her in.
"Are you crazy? Wandering around after sun-down on Litha." He said, not angrily but in concern.
Hermione caught her breath at last. "I- I decided to come. But it was too late, the sun had set and I had no choice. So I just had to run here and trust nothing would happen."
"Scared of the fay-folk?" he teased.
"If you must know, yes." she said. "Give me my chaplet."
Draco realized he was holding her chaplet in his hand. He put it over her head.
Hermione looked visibly comforted.
"Draco…about last week…I'm sorry."
"Forget it," then realizing he might have sounded harsh, he smiled at her. Hermione felt like reaching up to touch his face. Somehow, when they met up again, everything was always better than she imagined it would be. She smiled back. It was not a good time to ask him about the roses, so she put it off.
"I was scared that you might have left, I didn't want you to go alone," she said.
"Me neither," he admitted. "I hope your chaplets work."
"It's nearly time," Hermione said. "Before I left the Hall Clock read a quarter past eleven."
"Well then, shall we, M'Lady?" he said, opening the door.
"Father Lorenzo would kill me if he could see what I was doing tonight" said Hermione, as she and Draco stumbled into Flinders Wood by the pale light of their lamps.
"Hush." Draco shushed her. They were entering a deeper part of the wood where the fayferns grew and Draco had a strange feeling that there were others in the wood.
Hermione began to shiver. She felt it too. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt something touch her hand. Draco grasped her free hand tightly and smiled at her. She smiled back.
As quietly as they could, they made their way to the toadstool ring and the fayferns. Hermione was relieved to see that there was nothing unusual about the ring. Together, they bent down to the fayferns and both saw the tiny white flowers beginning to unfurl.
She let Draco lead her aside and sit them both down on the ground. In fifteen more minutes, they could shake the fernseed out of the fully bloomed fayfern flowers and get out of there. Hermione was not a witch for nothing. She could sense magic all around her tonight, but it was an ancient, mysterious magic, not at all like the sort she had been used to in the future world.
Draco could sense it too. But strangely, he was not afraid of it at all. It felt somehow familiar. He was keenly aware of Hermione's soft hand in his. He hadn't let it go for ten minutes. Now and then, he tightened his fingers around hers to let her know everything was okay.
Draco Malfoy is holding my hand. Draco Malfoy is holding my hand. Hermione repeated the phrase mentally to herself twenty nine times. The thirtieth time, she turned the phrase around I am holding Draco Malfoy's hand. She thought of Blaise and felt ashamed. Gently, she removed her hand from his and placed it in her lap.
Draco felt her withdraw and felt a pang of hurt. He knew she was thinking about Blaise again. He focused instead on watching the fayfern flowers, watching for the moment of their greatest bloom when they would have to collect the fernseed. In Diagon Alley, you could buy fernseed at a sickle a scoop. Draco wished he were there.
Finally, the little white flowers burst open and revealed their precious golden pollen.
Draco shook Hermione, and pointed to them.
Hermione didn't move.
He held her shoulders. Her eyes were closed and her chest moved softly up and down. She was fast asleep! He shook her gently, then harder, but she wouldn't wake.
How odd.
Gently, he laid her on the ground and got to his feet. Well, he could easily collect the fernseed himself. All he had to do was to shake the heads of the flowers into the little pouch they had brought. He fumbled for the pouch at his waist and drew it out. Swiftly, he walked around the toadstool ring and knelt down by the flowers. He shook the pollen into the bag. Each flower gave a teaspoonful. Very soon, the small pouch was filled. He had the strangest sensation someone was standing behind him, but when he turned, there was no-one. He should have been scared, but he wasn't.
Perhaps it due to his relief at having successfully collected the fernseed that Draco didn't watch where he was going. He looked happily at Hermione still sleeping soundly on the grass and took three hasty steps toward her.
Then it happened.
To his horror, he was frozen to the spot. Damn! He had stepped into the blasted fay-ring. All he could see was Hermione lying on the ground in front of him and it seemed she grew brighter and brighter. But how could that be? Suddenly, he was aware that it was because the clearing in Flinders Wood was growing light, not with the golden light of the sun, but with a cold, pale light like starlight. Suddenly, he heard laughter all around him and soft music.
"Mother,
Goddess, Divine One,
Who has called us? Who's the one?
Bless this circle, here and now,
Come to us, come to us..."
He thought he could make out tall shapes before him. He had a strong urge to reach out and touch them.
"Our Queen she sits upon the strand,
Fair as lily, white as wand;
She summons you, here and now
Come to us, come to us
But what is this, our plans despoiled
Around his neck a chaplet coiled"
There was ringing laughter and the tall shapes before him slowed and gathered around him. Please leave Hermione alone, he prayed.
But he need not have worried, for the shapes were clustering around him and him only. He could now see men and women. They were all beautiful, and yet, their beauty was the sort that was terrible to look upon. The pale light that shone from them reminded him of the light of the stars and it hurt to look too long upon them. He would have moved toward them but for the weight of the chaplet around his neck which seemed to anchor him to the spot.
From among them, one more beautiful and taller than all the rest stood forth and Draco couldn't help but fall to his knees in front of her. She smiled and her voice was gentle.
"Magik blood in faerie sight
Met by good fortune on this night
Your heart's desire can set us free
Tell Queen Caelia what to grant thee."
"What?" said Draco, confused. "You're granting me a wish?" The faerie queen nodded and continued.
"Rosemary Rue and Sweet Orpine
Daisy Fern and Celadine
Worn by magik blood this night
Summons us to wearer's sight
Mortal since you have magik root
Be quick and put to me your suit."
They were not going to harm him. Apparently, through a series of coincidences, he had somehow had managed to summon them. And they could only be set free if they granted him a wish…
"Hasten hasten set us free
Tell Queen Caelia what to grant thee."
The fay folk were beginning to look impatient. Some had begun dancing around him in a circle, and the pace was picking up.
One wish.
Through the circle of bodies around him, he made out Hermione's form on the ground.
"I wish…I wish…Hermione would fall in love with me." he whispered.
The faerie queen looked grave and shook her head.
"Faerie power is strong and sweet
But mortal love's beyond our reach
We can move mountain and build town
But your lady must love you on her own"
"All right then," Draco searched in his mind for another wish.
Should he wish Hermione and himelf both back to the future? It seemed the most obvious thing to do…but no, they could do that themselves after Samhain.
Should he wish them back to the part where they were doing their potions NEWT, so he could stop all this happening? But if he did so, would it mean all this didn't happen in the first place? So how would he know how to stop her from mucking up the potion? Would they be stuck in a huge loop? And if she wasn't thrown back to the past, they wouldn't have had the opportunity to get to know each other better. No, Hermione would just have gone on with life and probably become Mrs Ron Weasley or Mrs Dean Thomas or whatever. He couldn't take that risk.
"Hasten hasten set us free
Tell Queen Caelia what to grant thee." The fairies were trapped till Draco released them with a wish.
Draco knew they were trapped and took his time to think carefully….No, there was nothing wrong with their situation now. He didn't mind being in the past. In fact, he was intoxicated with the languorous slowness of the past and becoming addicted to having Hermione's company all to himself. No, these days were great…Except for one thing that hung over them…
He knew what he wanted.
"I wish that I was not engaged to Blaise Zabini! It was the biggest mistake of my life!"
The fairie queen smiled and her court clapped and laughed.
"So mote it be you've wish'd it well
May all you seek come from my spell…"
She nodded to one of her court and the shimmering faerie bowed and flew away into Flinders Wood, returning in a second to kneel at his Queen's side. She listened for a second, and to Draco, it seemed a serious conversation passed between them though neither moved their lips. All this time, Draco was trapped, his body resisting his every impulse to move and join the fay in their revels. He felt the chaplet around his neck grow warm and felt grateful it was there. Who knows what he might have done had he not been wearing the simple charm.
Finally, the great Queen clapped her hands in delight. She reached forward and put a hand on Draco's head. It seemed that she touched him, and yet that she did not. Her hand felt like a cold breath of spring air on his head.
"So mote it be, you've wished it well
May all you seek come from my spell
Queen Caelia will have that from this day
Your promis'd marriage fade away.
And though your wish will come to be
Yet howfore, wherefore strange to see!
We fay-folk like to have our fun
But fear ye not, your wish is done!
Her hand grew even colder on his head and he grew dizzy. Through the chanting ring of fairies, he thought he saw two shadowy figures emerge from the wood and join them. He thought he recognized them…no, that must a trick of the light! The other fairies turned to welcome the newcomers and Queen Caelia nodded at them, looking satisfied.
At last, when Draco felt that he would freeze from the Queen's touch, she withdrew her hand and smiled mischievously at Draco. The fay-folk began to shimmer and grow transparent. The two shadowy figures which had emerged from the wood gradually turned as bright as their fay kin, till Draco could not make out which they were anymore.
Dancing in a ring around him, they sang, repeating the Queen's strange warning…
"Mortal kin, us you would test-
Faerie power can't be guessed
You will have your heart's desire
But tainted with our fairie fire
When things come to be the fairies' way
There always is a price to pay
We fay-folk like to have our fun
But fear ye not, your wish is done!
Our Queen she sits upon the strand,
Fair as lily, white as wand…"
As their singing faded, Draco found he could move again. He shook his head. Had it all been a dream? Even as he tried to recall the forms and faces of the fay-folk, the memories faded from him. Never deal with the fay, his mother had warned him when he was younger. They do not think like us and can't be trusted. He shivered, remembering the cold touch of Queen Caelia's touch on his head. He found he had regained his power of movement and rushed over to where Hermione lay. He shook her gently.
"Wake up!"
Hermione stirred at last. "Mmm…what time is it?"
"Past midnight. I've collected the fernseed, it's here in the pouch."
Hermione yawned and sat up, "What!? You mean I fell asleep and you didn't wake me up?"
"I tried to, but you were sleeping like a log. It doesn't matter, I've collected the fernseed anyway." He held out the bag to her.
She opened it and nodded when she saw the golden pollen. Looking over at the fayfern patch, she noticed the white flowers were already beginning to wilt.
"Okay then, but you really might have woken me up."
"Hermione," Draco said nervously, "D'you feel all right?"
"Of course. Why shouldn't I?" she said, getting to her feet and picking up her lamp.
"Er…nothing." Draco said. "Are you sure you feel all right?"
"Of course. What's up with you?" Hermione brushed down her dress. "You're acting very odd."
He urgently wanted to test whether his wish had come true and could hardly contain himself from asking Hermione what he wanted to know. As they made their way back to his cottage and the stream, he plucked up courage to do it.
"Hermione…"
"Yes, Draco?" she said, yawning widely.
"Er… do you remember…er…"
"Do I remember what?"
"Nothing." Draco mentally kicked himself. He didn't want to spoil the evening. They had just made up, what was the point of bringing all up now? What if the whole incident had been nothing more than a hallucination of some sort?
"Go on Draco, remember what?" Hermione prompted. By now, they were out of the wood and walking down the stream back to the manor.
"Remember that the fair is coming to town in a few weeks? I wonder if we could go together…we still haven't got our dove feather, and, from what I remember from History books, they sell all sorts of birds and livestock at these fairs."
"Great idea!" exclaimed Hermione. "I would love to go. I've always wanted to see a real medieval fair- not like those tacky mock ups they have at stately homes. Just let me know when…. Wait- we need a better way to send messages to each other. It's nearly impossible to arrange to meet you. Maybe you could write me messages and pass them through one of the under-servants."
"I think you've been reading too many stories," said Draco. "Seriously, what you're suggesting would never work. We'd be found out in a second."
"Well then, what do we do?"
"I don't know."
"I'll think of something, Draco," she said, turning to face him. "Don't worry."
"I'm not worried."
"We're nearly at the manor. You'd better turn back." Hermione took off her chaplet and fingered it. "Seems like we didn't need these after all. Fay-folk…indeed!"
Draco took it from her hands and gently placed it around her neck. "Please don't take it off till you're inside."
She looked surprised, "Why Draco, I thought you said you didn't believe in them?"
He shook his head, "Just promise me you won't take it off till you're inside."
"All right. Are you feeling quite well? You look a little shaken." She stared hard at him.
"I'm fine. Just tired, that's all."
"Good night, then."
"Hermione?"
"Yes?"
He gently brushed his fingers through her hair, and she didn't resist. There was something special between them. Something almost tangible so that it hung shining in the air with the strong scent of the herbs they wore around their necks.
"I think you're nearly ready to understand. I…I want to talk to you about some things. Myself mostly. But also about you. I need to."
Hermione nodded, her eyes bright. "I understand."
In the sweet, magical darkness of a late midsummer's eve, a young maiden hurried through the compound of the manor towards a small side-door. Before she let herself in, she paused and turned around. It seemed she was taking a moment to think about something.
Finally, hurrying over to the herb gardens behind her, she searched by the light of her lamp through the bunches of green herbs that had begun to grow. Her fingers triumphantly closed upon a tiny five-pointed golden flower growing among a bushy patch of herb. She slipped it into her cloak pocket and made her way into the manor, quietly closing the door behind her.
In the manor, the maiden tucked the golden flower under her pillow and lay down to sleep…perchance to dream.
Soon, it would be light again. The magic of Midsummer's Eve was nearly over. In the woods, the fay-folk slipped across into their own realm, their mischief done for yet another year, leaving the mortal world with only fading echoes of their revelry…
Philomel, with melody,
Sing in our sweet lullaby:
Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby:
Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,
Come our lovely lady nigh;
So good-night, with lullaby!